


Black and Blue

by alison



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Eating Disorders, M/M, Romance, Self-Esteem Issues, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-16
Updated: 2013-03-16
Packaged: 2017-12-05 11:51:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/722982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alison/pseuds/alison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is a barista who is a bit damaged from a previous relationship. Harry is a musician who is all warmth and light. Rebuilding a life takes time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black and Blue

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Kay (ImNotOhKay) for being my test audience. As always, she is awesome.
> 
> Available in Russian [here](http://ficbook.net/readfic/1673682), thanks to the translation efforts of [saddnnos](http://archiveofourown.org/users/saddnnos/pseuds/saddnnos) .

 

 

Louis stared at his computer screen, unconsciously gnawing on his lower lip as he read the message through again, his eyes narrowing with every word. Finally, after a third read, he slammed his laptop closed, pushing himself away from the desk with frustration. He stood and paced the room, letting anger build up until he finally released it in a wordless shout. He didn't think about the neighbours in his building with paper-thin walls. He didn't have room in his brain for them just now.

And it's not like Max hadn't done shit like this before. Push Louis away, then pull him back with his flattering words only to tear him down again once Louis came crawling back. It had been a vicious cycle since Louis had had the good sense to leave six months before.

But Louis was lonely. He hadn't been properly alone since he was in high school and it was hard. He'd never say it to anyone else, but he felt wrong when it was just him, lying in bed at the end of the day in his shitty studio. Even when Max was making him feel awful about himself, at least it was a warm body to curl up to at night. At least it kept his mind occupied, even if his thoughts were filled with failed auditions and pants that didn't quite fit. Even if the only thing he thought about was how he would never be perfect to his boyfriend.

But Louis had done this before. He had fallen for “I didn't mean it” and “I miss you” and “Please come back” before. It always ended the same. Within days, Max would show that nothing had changed and that he was still an arsehole who just needed to own someone. Louis had been that someone for long enough. So he had gotten his own place, this place, which was all he could afford on his meagre barista salary. He had left for good.

He still couldn't sleep soundly at night though. He was still lonely all the time.

His friends were beginning to let him back into their lives, after he had shut them out long ago at Max's insistence. He thought about calling Niall or Liam to talk, but he figured they wouldn't want to hear him complain about Max at this point. Those friendships were still fragile. They'd been hurt, Louis knew, and he had to be careful with them.

So Louis tried to distract himself with TV, watching the latest X Factor show and trying to laugh at the contestants who flubbed the words or missed their high notes. It didn't work, though. He found himself imagining that it was him up on that stage, messing up his one shot at success, and he felt even more miserable than he had before the show.

Before going to bed, he opened his laptop again, responding to the e-mail with two sentences.

_I am no longer a part of your life. Please don't write to me again._

-

His job paid barely more than minimum wage but he had benefits and he could afford his shitty flat and he didn't have to rely on someone else to pay his way. This was all new to him, the taking care of himself thing, and it wasn't always easy. He still had a lot of learning to do, but he was making progress.

“Louis, you're at the register tonight,” his boss said, invading his thoughts as he punched in for work.

He nodded in response and went to find his apron.

His shift went fairly quickly. It was pretty busy for a Thursday and he was constantly moving. He had been doing this for a couple of months and he finally felt like he had a handle on the job. He didn't panic when customers yelled at him anymore and he didn't tremble when people rambled off half a dozen drink orders, all with special instructions.

His confidence was a work in progress though. It was a constant struggle to remind himself that he was completely capable of doing things, of being an adult. For so long, he'd been told that he couldn't do anything well and that he needed someone to take care of him. Sometimes he still believed it.

The coffee shop he worked in had live music most nights and tonight it was a familiar young man playing guitar and singing. He had played a few times since Louis had started working there. As Louis gave the last customer in line their change, his eyes drifted over to the guy who was set up in the corner of the room, singing something he didn't recognize.

He usually didn't pay much attention to the musicians, but this guy had messy curly hair and piercing green eyes and the brightest smile Louis had seen. It was hard not to notice him, honestly. And when he opened his mouth to sing, it got even harder. His voice was raw and open and it made Louis completely stop what he was doing the first time he heard it.

The guy played until they closed and Louis tried really hard to block out the sound as he worked, focusing on his job instead of the low, raspy voice filtering through the room. When it was finally closing time, the guy – Harry, he had learned – put down his guitar and started packing up. The last customers left and Louis locked the door behind them. His manager had gone into the office to deal with the night deposit and paperwork, leaving Louis alone with Harry as they both cleaned up, Louis wiping down tables and Harry packing up his guitar.

Louis was throwing out a few empty cups when Harry spoke.

“Good night for tips!”

Louis looked up to see him holding a stack of bills, smiling brightly. He returned the smile, then looked back down at the table, wiping a stubborn spot from the surface.

“Yeah, you're really good,” he said quietly, but genuinely.

“Thanks mate!” Harry said, stepping toward Louis with his hand extended. “I'm Harry.”

“Louis,” Louis responded with a polite smile, shaking the guy's hand.

“Nice to meet you, Louis.”

He didn't look away and Louis turned the rag over in his hands, not wanting to be rude, but not knowing what to say. Luckily, Harry seemed chatty and buzzed from playing, so he kept talking.

“So, you're done with work soon, yeah? Want to go get a drink?” He smiled cheekily and held up the money in his hand. “My treat?”

Louis stammered, not knowing if he was being asked out on a date or not. The look on Harry's face made him think it could be the former, but he didn't even know this guy, so why would he be asking him out? Besides, the guy was beautiful, so it didn't quite add up.

“Sorry, can't,” Louis replied in the kindest way possible, cringing as he struggled to come up with an excuse. But Harry quickly spoke before Louis could decide on one.

“Oh, sorry. Didn't mean to assume anything.”

“No, it's not that. It's just-”

“You're not single?”

Louis was starting to get flustered by this guy's frankness. Honestly, having someone so fit be at all interested in him was intimidating and it made Louis want to run straight out of the coffee shop.

“No, I am but-”

“Not your type?”

Wouldn't this guy let Louis finish a sentence? He was the exact opposite of Louis, brimming with confidence and completely extroverted. It reminded him a bit of what he had been like before Max.

“It's not that either. I'm just not seeing anyone right now.” Louis went back to wiping the tables if only to avoid Harry's curious glance. “Can't, really. Can't see anyone for a while.”

Harry was finally quiet and Louis didn't dare look up from what he was doing. He finished wiping the last table and started emptying the bin before Harry spoke again.

“Bad break up?”

Louis winced a bit at the words and apparently that was enough of a response because when Louis finally looked up, Harry was nodding knowingly.

“Well, I have 30 quid burning a hole in my pocket and I'd like to have a beer. And if you'd be willing to keep me company, I promise not to make a move on you.” Harry gave Louis a pleading but hopeful look.

Louis bit his lip as he tied the bin bag, trying to come up with a good reason to say no. He couldn't. He was low on friends and he was trying to reintegrate himself into the real world, but he was still nervous about going out with this perfect stranger. Especially since that perfect stranger was so attractive. It all felt dangerous to Louis.

“I make a good friend, Louis.” He tilted his head, studying Louis' face. “And you seem like maybe you could use someone to talk to.”

Louis sighed as he dropped the full bin bags by the door to take on his way out.

“Okay, fine. I'll come on one condition.”

Harry grinned and nodded, waiting expectantly.

“You don't try to get me to talk about my deep, dark secrets.”

Harry quickly agreed and Louis nodded hesitantly, heading into the office to tell his boss he was done for the night. Harry grabbed his guitar case and they set out, Louis dropping the rubbish off at the dumpster before following Harry down the street to a nearby pub they both knew of.

-

The pub was only half full as it was late on a Thursday night. They picked out a corner table and Louis slid onto a stool while Harry propped his guitar case against the wall under the table and asked what Louis wanted to drink.

“Just a vodka on the rocks.”

Harry pulled a face, looking half surprised and half impressed.

“You don't kid around, do you?”

Louis smiled a bit, shaking his head.

“I quit drinking beer a long time ago. Did you know vodka has fewer than 100 calories in a shot? It's a safe choice.”

Harry's expression changed to something Louis couldn't read. But he turned away before Louis could figure it out.

When he returned with their drinks, he sat across from Louis and sighed, smiling.

“So, tell me about yourself. So far I know your name and where you work. What else is there to know?”

“I don't know,” Louis said, shrugging. And really, he didn't. To talk about his life was to talk about the things he didn't want to talk about tonight. He pulled out some general facts, hoping to appease the interested boy across from him. “I'm from Doncaster. I like football. I like pop music. Pretty standard, really.”

Harry nodded, taking in the information.

“Are you in school or anything? Any future plans aside from being the best barista in London?”

“No, not in school. I was always pretty shit at school, so uni was never really in the stars for me.” Harry smiled like he understood and that made Louis feel a little better. “Still trying to figure out the career thing. Actually wanted to be a musician for a long time, but it turns out I'm pretty crap at it, so I gave up on that.”

“Who says you're crap at it?”

Louis took a small sip from his vodka, wanting to move the conversation in a different direction.

“Plenty of people. But enough about me, yeah? Tell me about yourself.”

Harry looked like he wanted to protest, but he stopped himself. Instead he told Louis all about himself. Louis learned that he had gone to uni for a year before deciding it wasn't for him. He'd rather be playing music on the street for next to no money than learning about the stuff they taught at uni.

He was from Cheshire. He worked part-time in a local bookstore to pay his rent. He shared a flat with his mate, Zayn (which Louis had him spell to be sure he'd gotten it right). He had a kitten called Pumpernickel because of her dark brown fur.

Louis listened as Harry talked, asking questions from time to time, but mostly just watching in awe of how open this guy was. After 10 minutes, Louis felt like he really knew him. It was incredible.

“So, that's about it. Sorry if that was more information than you wanted.”

“No, that was good. You live an interesting life.”

Harry laughed loudly at that, making Louis smile as he sipped more of his vodka.

“I assure you my life is far from interesting.”

-

They stayed at the pub for another hour or so before Louis said he should get home. Harry conceded and they walked outside.

“Where are you parked? I'll walk you.”

“I don't drive. I live just a few blocks away,” he pointed in the general direction of his flat.

“Ah. Well I'd offer to drive you home, but I suppose you don't want me knowing where you live just yet, huh?”

Louis gave a tight smile. It was true. Even though Harry seemed harmless and kind, Louis didn't warm to people quickly. He never really had, but especially now.

“It's alright. I understand,” he said, smiling that stupidly bright smile. “It's been a fun night, though. Thanks for coming along.”

“Of course. And thanks for the drink.”

“Anytime, Louis.”

Harry looked into Louis' eyes for a while before leaning in closer. Louis fought the urge to jerk away, knowing fully well that Harry wasn't trying to kiss him or anything, but still feeling mild panic rise in his chest for a second. Instead, Harry dropped his head, looking down as he spoke.

“Just so you know, you're fucking gorgeous and fit as hell,” he said quietly before taking a step back, looking up. “You can have the beer.”

Before Louis could react, Harry turned, calling out a “goodnight” over his shoulder as he walked away.

It was for the best that he left before Louis could react. He really didn't want this guy to see the violent blush that spread across his cheeks or the way he started shaking lightly from the anxiety of being complimented. It wasn't until he was halfway home that he let himself relax, still thinking about what Harry had said. It was nice of him to say, he guessed. Even if he didn't believe it.

-

Harry started popping by the coffee shop even when he wasn't playing. He'd get a coffee and chat with Louis between customers. After a couple of weeks and a handful of visits, Harry asked for Louis' phone number.

“Just so I can text you pictures of my kitten and stuff,” he claimed, leaning against the counter as Louis stocked the candy display.

Louis only hesitated briefly before agreeing. Sure, it was odd that this random guy was trying so hard to become Louis' friend and sure, it set off alarms in his head, but Harry was pretty transparent. He was all heart and warmth and Louis was quite sure he could be trusted.

The first text he received from Harry was that same night, around midnight. Louis had just curled up on the couch with a cup of tea after getting home from work. It was, indeed, a picture of his cat. Louis grinned at the small screen, thinking about Harry taking the picture. He could see his bare feet under the kitten's fur.

Louis responded, telling Harry that it was the cutest kitten he'd seen in a long time.

Harry responded, asking Louis to come visit him at work the next day.

-

Louis showed up at the bookstore the next day after being begged to come. He had no idea why Harry was so insistent that Louis visit him at work, but he showed up nevertheless. Harry was sitting behind the counter, flipping through a large book of art when he walked in. Looking up, his face broke into a grin when he saw that it was Louis.

“You came!”

“Don't really know why you wanted me to come,” Louis said, his eyes scanning the shelves of books around him.

“I visit you at work all the time. Only seemed fair that you reciprocate.”

“But you come to my work for the coffee. I don't really need any books.”

Harry smirked at him as Louis finally met his eyes, like there was some joke there that Louis didn't understand.

“What? Are you making fun of the fact that I don't read?”

Harry shook his head, still smirking.

“No, no. I don't really read a lot myself if I'm being honest.”

“Then what's with the face?”

“Nothing at all, Louis.” Harry's smirk extended into his signature bright smile.

Louis rolled his eyes, giving up, and set off down an aisle to browse. He only spotted three other people in the place. Two were sitting on chairs in the back and one was crouched down by the history section, apparently flipping through each book on the shelf. When Louis made his way up the last fiction aisle, Harry met him at poetry.

“Maybe you _should_ get a book,” he said casually, plucking out a dark blue book of selected poems. “This one is good.”

He extended the book to Louis. Louis eyed the cover before narrowing his eyes at Harry.

“Did you ask me here to get commission from me or something?”

Harry held his hands up, affronted, and put the book back.

“Would've given it to you for free, but I see how it is.”

Louis wanted to ask why he would give him a free book, but he dropped it and followed Harry back to the front of the store. Harry leaned against the counter and pushed his leg out, tapping his foot against Louis' shin.

“Come get drinks with me tonight.”

“Sorry, I have to work early tomorrow. Maybe another time.”

“Tomorrow night?”

Louis thought over his schedule and remembered that he had the day after tomorrow off.

“Yeah, alright. Same place as before?”

“Sure. Around nine?”

Louis nodded in agreement. His gaze fell to the book Harry had been looking at when he walked in. It was opened to a glossy page covered by a large black and white photograph of an old couple on a bench.

“What's this all about then?” Louis asked, waving at the book. “I'm crap at art. Is there some hidden message here?”

Harry shifted so he was standing next to Louis, his arm lightly touching Louis' shoulder.

“I'm no expert when it comes to art myself, but I don't think there's any hidden message. I think that's the point.”

Louis looked up at him quizzically.

“I mean, look at their faces. They're completely peaceful and content. I get the feeling they've been going to that park together and sitting on that bench every day for fifty years, you know? It's just simple, easy.”

Louis listened and looked at the picture, understanding what Harry meant. The couple looked happy in a way Louis could barely even recognize. They weren't smiling, but there was a calmness to them.

They stood in silence as Louis studied the faces in the photo and tried to ignore the feeling of Harry's arm against his. Finally, Louis took a step back, shaking his head.

“I guess it just doesn't seem very realistic to me. Nothing's that easy, is it?”

As he looked up into Harry's face, he saw the slightest cringe flash across his face.

“I don't know. I'd like to think it's possible.”

“Of course you would, Harry. That's who you are,” Louis said, smirking.

Harry smiled back, not even bothering to put up an argument. It was true, after all. Harry was, if nothing else, hopeful. His optimism radiated out of him so strongly that even Louis was almost touched by it.

When Louis left the shop, Harry shoved the art book toward him, forcing it into his hands.

“Take it. I think you need it.”

Louis looked down at the large book and shook his head vigorously.

“No way, Harry. This has to be expensive as hell. I can't.”

Louis tried to give it back, but Harry insisted. When Louis finally agreed, he thanked him, still unsure as to why Harry was so insistent. But he was starting to wonder if he'd ever understand the reasons behind the things Harry did.

-

A few days after Louis got drinks with Harry again, he called Liam, making the effort to keep rebuilding the friendship. They made plans to get lunch over the weekend and Niall showed up as well.

In school, the three of them were always really close, but Liam and Louis had known each other longer and they were always a little bit closer. When Louis needed advice or needed to confess something, he always went to Liam first. That's why Liam took Louis' abandonment harder and why he was more hesitant now to let Louis back in.

When Louis arrived at the small restaurant for lunch, the two were already there waiting. He gave them a half smile as he approached the table.

“Hey guys,” he said quietly, sitting down next to Niall.

They both greeted him casually, smiling, but it was obvious that there was still a bit of tension in the air between them. An awkward silence settled as they all waited for someone else to speak. Luckily, Niall started rattling on about the menu, wondering out loud if he could get two kinds of cheese on his bacon burger.

Louis eyed him bitterly. The guy was in perfect shape, thin and muscular. It wasn't fair, he thought. No matter what he ate, he always looked great. Meanwhile, Louis was trying to decide whether to suffer the judgmental glances of his friends if he ordered low-fat dressing with his veggie wrap. When they ordered, he decided not to get dressing at all.

“So, what's new?” Liam asked, glancing up at Louis once their orders had been placed. “Still at the coffee shop?”

“Yeah, still there. It's alright.”

“And how's the new flat?”

Louis shrugged. To anyone who had seen his flat, the question would seem ridiculous. How is it? It's tiny and boring and the heater doesn't always work properly. But they hadn't seen it and they didn't know.

“It's fine, I guess. Not great, but it'll do.”

“At least it's yours, yeah?”

Louis nodded awkwardly. It was true that he was glad to have his own place, but sometimes it was almost unbearably quiet and lonely.

“How about you guys? Anything new?” Louis asked, hoping to steer the conversation toward the others.

Liam was still working with his uncle, doing household repairs and maintenance. Niall had tried to take a college course online, but he tended to get distracted easily, so he failed it. He laughed carelessly about that and Louis wondered if he himself was ever the kind of person who could laugh at their own failure. He supposed at one point he did, but he couldn't remember.

When their food came, the conversation died as they ate their food quietly. Once Louis was a few bites into his wrap, Liam asked a question that put him off eating altogether.

“You haven't heard from Max, have you?”

He eyed Louis suspiciously, like he was afraid Louis was hiding something. He wasn't, of course, but he knew Liam was afraid of him falling back into that relationship after seeing him go back before.

“Uh, no,” Louis said, clearing his throat uncomfortably. “I mean, he e-mailed a little while ago, but no... Pretty sure that'll be the last I hear from him.”

“So you told him to sod off?” Liam asked.

“Not in those words, but yeah, basically,” Louis said quietly, picking bits of lettuce of out his wrap.

Niall threw his arm around Louis' shoulder, smiling widely.

“Good lad,” he said brightly.

Louis bit his lip, wishing to talk about anything else, anything at all. He searched his brain for another topic, but they'd covered all of the obvious ones. Instead, he just waited for Niall to return to his burger and Liam's watchful gaze to finally leave Louis' face before he exhaled shakily.

When they had finished lunch and went to say their goodbyes, Louis stood awkwardly with his hands deep in his pockets before Niall surrounded him, giving him a tight hug.

“We've missed you, man,” he said as he stepped back.

Liam gave him a more reasonable hug, clearly more aware of how uncomfortable Louis still was with displays of affection.

When Louis turned his back on them to leave, he shook his head to himself. They shouldn't have given him a second chance and he knew it. He just had to try really hard not to blow it again.

-

Louis and Harry got together a few more times over the next couple of weeks, but Louis was starting to feel anxious about how comfortable they were getting. Comfort meant talking and talking meant trying to explain the events of his life without mentioning the most important part of it. It meant that Louis would have to bring it up eventually.

When Harry played again at the coffee house, he stayed after they closed to help Louis clean up, wiping down tables and sweeping as Louis did the stuff behind the counter.

“What are you doing tonight?” Harry asked casually, dumping the contents of the dust pan into the bin.

“Going home and watching awful reality TV?” Louis responded as if Harry should have known. What else would he be doing at 11:30 on a Tuesday?

To be honest, his social life was almost entirely Harry. He saw Liam and Niall from time to time, but not nearly as regularly as he saw Harry. He was becoming his best friend.

“Feel free to tell me to bugger off, but what if I joined you?”

Louis bit his lip as he rinsed out a coffee pot. He was still anxious about having Harry over to his place, even though they had become pretty good friends over the past few weeks. Now that he thought of it, no one aside from himself had been in his flat. Not one person.

“Louis?” Harry asked, startling Louis out of his thoughts. “It's okay to tell me no. It's always okay to tell me no.”

Louis looked up into Harry's eyes and saw a strange emotion there. Some cross between kindness and pain and Louis had no idea what it meant, but it comforted him.

“You can come over,” he said without really thinking it through.

He had to start somewhere.

-

“It's just a shitty studio and I haven't decorated or anything and I'm sorry if I left a mess,” Louis rambled off, with about a dozen other apologies about his place as he fished his key out of his pocket.

“Stop bloody apologizing for everything, Louis. Do you really think I care about the state of your flat? You should see mine. It's a right disaster.”

As Louis let Harry in, he cringed to himself, seeing all of the flaws that Harry must be seeing now. He ran to grab a dirty plate off the table and threw it in the sink, kicking a spare pair of shoes against the wall on the way. He glared at the bare walls, wishing he had had the sense to put up some art or a poster or something.

Then, he noticed the state of his bed. He had left his comforter strewn across the bottom, not having bothered to make it after waking up that morning. As he made to hurry over and fix it, Harry reached out and grabbed his arm.

“Stop, Louis.”

“What?”

“Stop trying to make your place look like the cover of Good Housekeeping. I like seeing it as is. I like seeing how you live.”

Louis fidgeted, wishing he could just go fix his bed, but he knew he wouldn't stop there. He'd keep finding things to fix. So, he tried to relax about it and walked away from Harry's grasp to the refrigerator to see what he had to offer Harry to drink.

Meanwhile, Harry had found the art book he'd given Louis. It was on Louis' table, opened to the same photograph they'd been looking at when Louis had visited him. Harry didn't make a comment, but ran his fingertips across the bottom of the page, smiling to himself before turning back toward the kitchen.

“I don't have any beer or anything-” Louis started, peering into his practically empty refrigerator.

“Why doesn't that surprise me?”

Louis looked up to find Harry with another unreadable expression on his face. Harry looked down quickly, though, and when he met Louis' gaze again, he was smiling.

“I don't need anything to drink, Louis. It's fine.”

“You sure?” Louis asked, closing the refrigerator. “I could make tea.”

“I'm alright, but if you want some, go ahead.”

Louis shook his head and left the kitchen to stand awkwardly near Harry in the middle of the room. Harry smiled softly and pushed his fingers into the pockets of his jeans.

“Want to sit?” Louis asked gesturing to the couch.

Harry moved to sit down and Louis joined him. As soon as they were both sitting, Louis reached for the remote control, but Harry stopped him, touching his arm lightly.

“Hold on. Can we talk for a bit first?”

Louis dropped the remote back onto the table, feeling anxious. Harry sounded serious, like he had something to address and it made Louis nervous. But Harry looked nervous, too, biting his lip lightly and messing with the hem of his shirt. He squinted at Louis, speaking hesitantly.

“Don't forget what I said earlier. It's always okay to tell me no, alright?”

Louis nodded slowly, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“We've known each other for a while, yeah? We've talked a lot and I feel like I've told you just about everything there is to tell about me.”

Again, Louis nodded. As Harry continued on, his eyes focused on Louis', making him feel very small under the piercing gaze.

“Remember when we first met? Remember telling me not to ask you about your deep, dark secrets? I was hoping you'd eventually open up to me about whatever it is, but you never have. You obviously avoid talking about the last few years of your life and I know there's something to tell. So, if you're ready, I wish you'd talk to me about it.”

Louis sighed shakily. So he'd finally gotten tired of waiting for Louis to bring it up. Of course Louis could refuse to talk about it, but he knew this was a chance for him. A chance to open up to someone, even if it made him painfully uncomfortable. He made his mind up to at least try.

Harry didn't say anything else, waiting patiently as Louis thought about what to say. Finally, after a minute of silence, he spoke.

“It's a bit complicated, isn't it? Not really sure where to start, so I guess I'll just go back to the beginning.”

Harry nodded, his expression warm and caring and it was too much for Louis, so he looked down at his hands as he started the story, his voice quiet in the bare room.

“I was in sixth form when I met him. His name was Max and he was four years older than me and we met at a concert. We started seeing each other and I fell for him right from the start. Teenage love, you know. He was hot and quite mysterious and I was a bit obsessed with him, if I'm being honest.”

Louis glanced up for just a moment to see that Harry's expression hadn't changed. He was eagerly taking in everything Louis said and Louis felt his hands start to shake. He folded them together in his lap, squeezing his fingers together to try to mask the trembling.

“Anyway, we started dating. The day after I graduated, I moved in with him. I turned my back on my family and friends and let him become my world. It was selfish and stupid, but I was 17 and the epitome of selfish and stupid, honestly. And things seemed great to me for a while. He worked and paid the rent and told me he'd always take care of me. It seemed perfect. I didn't have to go to uni and I didn't have to work and I got to live with the person I was in love with.”

When Louis looked up again, Harry's eyebrows were knitted, nodding along as he listened. Louis cleared his throat, trying to find the right words to explain the rest of the story.

“But there's a reason people say 'too good to be true', right? Nothing in life is ever that easy, is it? Nothing is perfect. And I found that out as time went on. When I first moved in with him, I had dreams of being a musician. They were silly dreams, really, but I tried anyway. I auditioned for shows, for bands. Nothing ever came of it and Max constantly told me to give it up. That it was only upsetting me and that he didn't want to have to pick up the pieces after every failed audition.

“Finally, one night, he told me that I just wasn't good enough. That I didn't have the talent needed to be a real musician. And it sounds bad, but he held me and told me it didn't matter because I'd always have him. He told me he loved me and I didn't have to be good at anything except being his boyfriend. I only had to be good for him. And that was enough for me at the time or I thought it was.”

Now Harry was turning sideways to look at Louis with a pained expression. He reached his hand out for a split second before pulling back into himself. He opened his mouth, but didn't speak, clamping his mouth shut again, letting Louis continue on uninterrupted.

“So, I gave up on everything except for him. And for a while, things were okay. I almost felt content. But then he started making comments that were so subtle I didn't even notice how hurtful they were. We'd be laying in bed and I'd curl onto him and he'd tell me I should stop snacking so much during the day because I was starting to get fat. But he'd say it with a smile and a kiss and he'd remind me that he loved me, so I didn't realize how awful of a thing it was to say or how much it was affecting me.

“But the comments got nastier over time. I'd be eating a biscuit and he'd smack it out of my hand and tell me I'd had enough. He'd tell me that my only job was to be his boyfriend – that he did everything else for me, so was it so much to ask that I stay fit?

“It wasn't just my weight, either. It was a new hairstyle I'd try or my inability to cook or my failed attempts at making him laugh. Nothing I ever did was quite right and he made sure I knew it. He had taken everything away from me – had claimed ownership over me – and made me beg for the little bits of pride he threw me.”

He didn't yell or cry. His voice remained even and quiet, with only the slightest edge creeping into it. As he continued on, he stared at his lap, dropping his voice even lower.

“After he told me that I was lucky to have him because I couldn't do anything for myself and now I'd gone and lost my boyish good looks, he undressed me and kissed me all over, whispering that he loved me even though I had a chubby stomach, that he loved me even though my arms were scrawny, that he loved me even though I had stubby fingers. He went over each body part, pointing out each flaw, but telling me he loved me in spite of them. And then he pulled himself up and kissed away my tears, telling me he loved me even though I was weak.”

Louis didn't know how he had gotten through that without breaking, but he had. The words spilled out of him like a dam being released. Maybe he had been needing this for a while, he realized.

“I believed every word he said. I believed that every part of me was flawed. I believed that no one else would ever want me. I believed that I was lucky to have him and I did my best to be better for him. We were together for five years before I finally left. And even after that, I went back when he called. He promised to be better and I fell for it, only to have the same shit happen again. But now it's been a few months since I've seen him and I'm just trying to build a life from scratch.”

Louis finally looked up into Harry's eyes. Harry's eyes were wet and shining and Louis hated it. He hated being the object of pity and sadness because he hadn't done anything to deserve it.

“And that's the first time I've told anyone any of that, so there you have it.”

It was silent for what felt like a long stretch of time, but it was probably only a minute or two. When Harry spoke, his voice was thick and raspy.

“You still believe it, don't you?”

“Believe what?”

“That every part of you is flawed.”

Louis sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, thinking. It was true that it was a constant battle for him to not focus on his flaws, but focusing on his flaws and knowing they were there were different things. He struggled to come up with an answer that didn't beg for more pity but was still honest. He couldn't come up with one.

“Louis, I see you,” Harry pressed. “I see how careful you are. I see how uncomfortable you are when I compliment you and I see how you stop yourself from smiling and I see how you never let your guard down. So, be honest with me. You still believe it.”

Louis was shocked that Harry had paid so much attention to him. Maybe he shouldn't have been so surprised, but he was. He decided to do Harry the favour of doing as he was told and being honest. He nodded.

“I believe it, yeah. I may be a little fucked up, but I know no one is perfect. So, yeah, I see my flaws. I know they're there. But I also know that the things Max did weren't okay.”

Harry nodded and Louis could see him thinking.

“I'm glad you know that at least. And, just for the record, I'd really like to hurt that guy right now. Really.”

Louis lifted the corner of his mouth in a half smile. He was glad he hadn't scared Harry away or annoyed him with his drama. Then again Harry was possibly the nicest person Louis had ever met, so he doubted Harry could ever be annoyed by something like this.

Harry sighed, running his fingers through his hair, stress etched into his features.

“Louis, fuck,” he said exasperatedly, dropping his hands to his lap. “I know you don't want to hear it, but you're awesome.” Louis cringed. “That guy basically trained you to feel bad about yourself and it's not fucking fair because I can't tell you that you're awesome without you freaking out.”

“I'm not _freaking out_ -”

“Okay, maybe you're not having a mental breakdown, but I see that panicked look in your eyes. I know that being complimented isn't an enjoyable experience for you and it's not fucking fair because I'd really like to compliment you.”

Louis tilted his head to the side, peering at Harry, confused.

“But you do compliment me. So, it's not like it's stopping you.”

“Louis-” Harry started before taking a sobering breath. “The tiny little things I say like that? When I say you're awesome and you're funny? Those are not the compliments I really want to give you. Those are the things I think I can get away with without scaring you off forever. For every one of those, there are ten other things I want to say, but don't because I don't think you want to hear it and you won't believe me anyway, so what's the point?”

Louis felt like he couldn't breathe, like something was sitting on his chest. What things did he want to say? Did he even want to know what those unsaid things were? It was all too much. At the risk of seeming rude, he suddenly stood and walked into the kitchen without responding and started making tea, just needing a moment to breathe.

Harry didn't move or speak for several minutes. Not until Louis had poured two cups and sat back down, handing one to Harry and sipping nervously at the other. Harry took a reluctant sip from his own cup, keeping his eyes off of Louis.

“Sorry. I said too much.”

Louis shook his head quickly, reaching for the remote control.

“Let's just watch TV, yeah?”

Louis hated the sadness in Harry's eyes as he agreed, fixing his gaze on the screen.

-

By the end of the night, they were almost back to normal. They laughed and joked, but it wasn't quite the way it had been. The weight of the earlier conversation still hung over them, heavy in the air. When Harry left after two episodes of The Bachelor, he didn't smile as brightly as usual.

And, of course, Louis blamed only himself.

-

Louis wasn't sure if Harry would be so eager to be his friend after that night, but two days later he showed up at the coffee shop as Louis was clocking out for the day after having worked the morning shift.

“You done for the day?” He asked as Louis walked around the counter, having taken off his apron already.

“Yeah, just finishing up. Did you want me to get you a cup of coffee before I go?”

Harry shook his head, gently pulling Louis outside into the sun. It was two in the afternoon and the sun was still high in the sky. Louis squinted at the brightness, then looked up at Harry. His expression was almost as warm as the rays hitting Louis' skin.

“Can I take you out for lunch? I know this place with a nice patio and this day is too beautiful to waste inside.”

Louis knew that, if he didn't go with Harry, he'd just go home and watch TV. He did have plans to go buy some groceries, but he figured he could do that later. So, he agreed and let Harry point them toward his car.

Harry opened the passenger door for Louis, winking as he made a show of helping him into the car, making Louis laugh. When they set off, they both remained silent for a few minutes until Louis felt the need to fill the silence.

“Wasn't sure I'd see you around again after the other night.”

“Seriously? Why would that change my mind about wanting to be around you?”

Louis shrugged, wishing he hadn't said anything. He never would have before Harry. He didn't say these things to anyone else, these honest moments in which he showed him what he was thinking or feeling. It was Harry who brought it out of him and Louis wasn't sure if he hated that or loved it.

It was just a few short minutes later that Harry was pulling into a small car park off the street, next to a quaint restaurant with twinkly lights lining the patio. He cut the engine and turned in his seat just enough to look at Louis.

“I like being around you more than pretty much anyone else, Louis. I mean, I have a lot of friends and they're great, but I-”

As Harry stopped himself, thinking over his words, Louis swallowed hard, forcing down the nerves rising inside him.

“I just really like being around you, okay? So get used to it.”

Harry smiled softly, immediately calming Louis. Louis nodded sheepishly and exhaled a long breath. _Get used to it._ He wasn't sure he knew how, but he was going to have to figure it out.

-

After lunch, Harry invited Louis over to his flat to meet his kitten and play video games. Since Harry had already seen his place, it only seemed right that Louis should see Harry's. Plus, Harry had documented what seemed like every movement Pumpernickel had made over the past few weeks in texts to Louis, so it seemed fitting that they finally meet.

Harry lived in a slightly nicer area than Louis, but his flat was in an older building and Louis was relieved that he didn't have some posh place that would make him feel like an idiot for having let Harry have seen his own flat. When Harry opened the front door, however, Louis looked around in awe.

Unlike Louis' flat, Harry's looked like a home. There were pictures of what he assumed were family and friends on the walls, there was mismatched but homey looking furniture filling the space, and then there were the instruments. There were two guitars hung on the far wall, as well as the guitar case on the floor that Louis knew held the guitar he'd seen Harry playing at the coffee shop. There were a couple of single drums against the wall as well. And, much to Louis' surprise, there was a piano sat in the corner.

Just as he was about to comment on that, he saw a small dark brown streak cross the floor, knocking into Harry's ankles. Harry scooped the kitten up, smiling proudly as the kitten nuzzled against his chin.

“This is Pumpernickel, the coolest kitten in all of London. You're actually quite lucky to be meeting her. Not many people receive this honour.”

Louis smiled at Harry, then down at the kitten, who was now biting Harry's chin softly. Louis reached out to pet the back of her head hesitantly. As he petted her, Harry spoke again, softly this time, addressing the cat.

“And, Pumpernickel, this is Louis, the coolest guy in all of London. You're pretty lucky to be meeting him as well.”

Just then, Louis' fingers bumped against Harry's as they both petted her back and Louis looked up at Harry, feeling an involuntary blush creep across his cheeks. He pulled his hand away but smiled, nodding back down at the kitten.

“She's a sweetheart. I really do feel honoured.”

The kitten let out a tiny meow, causing both boys to laugh quietly. She pushed her head against Harry's chin again and Harry gave her a quick kiss before dropping her onto the floor next to them.

“Now that the introductions are out of the way, I'll show you the place.”

He lead Louis forward, into the living room. Like his own place, it wasn't big. It opened right into the living room from the front door. There was a small kitchen off of that to the left and the bedrooms were to the right. At least Harry had a proper bedroom all to himself, Louis thought.

After the quick tour, Harry set up the Playstation and they played a few games of Fifa, which Louis had only played once at Liam's place not long after he broke up with Max. He lost the first three games until he finally won the fourth, although he secretly wondered if Harry let him win. Either way it was fun, yelling at the players and elbowing each other to try to throw the other off his game, all while Pumpernickel ran around their feet.

Finally, after the fourth game, they called it quits and turned off the game. It was nearly 8:00 and Louis felt like the afternoon had gone by in a minute. Harry stood and stretched his long body, arms reaching out above him.

“Want to order in some dinner?”

Louis felt like he should be going home, but he was also aware that nothing exciting was waiting for him there. In fact, he'd probably just feel cold and lonely after being here all afternoon. So, he agreed to dinner as Pumpernickel jumped into his lap, curling up happily as Louis petted her chin.

“Oh shit, I just realized I left my phone in my car. Do you mind waiting here while I run down to get it?”

“No, that's fine. You sure you trust me alone with your stuff?”

Harry smiled, watching Louis pet the kitten in his lap.

“Just don't steal my cat. I see those eyes you're giving her. You two are plotting something, I can tell.” He jokingly narrowed his eyes at them before smiling again and grabbing his keys off the counter. “I'll be right back.”

Once Harry had shut the door behind him, Louis gave the kitten a nice long squeeze before setting her on the couch next to him. He stood, assessing the space around him. He surveyed the photos on the wall quickly, figuring out who Zayn must have been due to the amount of the pictures he was in. There was one of Zayn playing the piano in their flat and Louis realized the piano must be his.

His gaze moved from the photos to the piano and he took a step toward it, feeling his heart rate speed up. He reached out and touched the wood top, running his fingers along the smooth surface. Without thinking, he moved quickly to the other side, sitting at the stool in front of it.

He sat there for a minute, just resting his fingertips on top of the fallboard. Then he slowly lifted the cover, revealing the black and ivory keys he had once known so well, his heartbeat now hammering in his ears. He pushed down one key, smiling at the sound resonating in the room. He pushed down another. And then another. And then a chord. And, before he knew it, he was playing a song without even deciding to play it. His fingers moved without waiting for instruction from his brain.

He didn't even know how long he'd been playing when he looked up and saw Harry leaning against the wall just inside the door. He stopped abruptly, cursing himself for not paying attention. He stood up and stepped away from the piano, talking nervously.

“Shit. Sorry, mate. I didn't hear you come in and-”

“Louis.”

“No, I really shouldn't have touched your stuff-”

“Louis.”

“Or your flatmate's stuff, maybe, which is probably even worse-”

“Louis, _shut up_ ,” Harry said forcefully.

Louis finally did, swallowing hard. Harry walked across the room, standing right in front of him, looking down at him with soft eyes.

“Now stay shut up while I say something, okay?”

Louis nodded, biting the inside of his lip.

“You play beautifully.”

Louis bit down hard, tasting blood on his tongue, but he stayed silent as requested, settling for a small head shake in protest. Harry exhaled loudly, pushing his fingers through his hair.

“You're so frustrating, Louis. I want you to see what I see – and _hear_ what I _hear_ – so badly it drives me mad. You're fantastic, Louis. Better than Zayn, anyway, and he gets paid to play so that should tell you something.”

By now Louis' skin felt hot all over. He wrapped his arms around his waist instinctively, almost as if he was guarding himself against the compliments.

“You're fantastic,” Harry murmured, having gone quiet.

He lifted a hand to Louis' neck, his fingertips grazing the skin there. Louis went rigid for a moment as Harry moved in to hold him, his other arm wrapping around Louis' back. His chin dropped onto Louis' shoulder.

“You're fantastic,” he repeated, his lips so close to Louis' ear that Louis could feel the warm breath on his skin.

He shook his head into Harry's shoulder. Harry repeated the phrase several more times, soft whispers into Louis' ear until Louis finally stopped shaking his head and relaxed into the embrace. He eventually dropped his arms from around himself, timidly placing his hands at Harry's sides. Harry took the opportunity to hold him closer.

“Is this okay?” Harry asked softly.

“The hug?” Louis asked, lips muffled by Harry's shoulder.

“The hug, yeah, and everything.”

“What else is there to be okay with?”

Harry paused for a second before he started laughing quietly. Louis pulled back as Harry took a step away from him, still laughing and pinching the bridge of his nose, shaking his head.

“What's funny?” Louis asked, feeling half self-conscious and half like Harry had actually gone mad.

Harry's laughter slowly died out, but he continued shaking his head to himself in disbelief.

“You have no idea, do you? You don't even notice it.”

“Notice what?” Louis asked, growing frustrated.

“Louis, I don't drink coffee,” Harry said simply.

Louis wasn't sure what that was supposed to mean, but Harry was staring at him expectantly like he should be having some sort of revelation. When that didn't happen, Harry spoke again.

“What happened the first night we met? Tell me how you remember it."

“What? Harry-”

“Just tell me, please.”

Louis sighed loudly, unsure of where this was going, but agreeing to play along.

“You were playing at the coffee shop. When you were packing up and I was cleaning, you started talking to me and said you made good tips so we should go get drinks. So, we did. Should I keep going?”

Harry shook his head and Louis stopped, waiting for an explanation.

“Do you remember the part of that night where I asked you out on a date?”

Louis furrowed his eyebrows. Of course he remembered it, but he wasn't sure how that was relevant now.

“I asked you on a date because I thought you were gorgeous and you have these eyes, Louis-” Harry stopped himself, shaking the dreamy look out of his eyes. “I asked you on a date.”

Harry took a deep steadying breath and Louis tried to stay calm, waiting to see where this was going before he panicked.

“And then I got to know you a little and I couldn't stop getting to know you because you're wonderful and I don't drink coffee, Louis, but I came to get coffee just to have a reason to see you.”

Louis' chest felt tight as he finally realized what Harry was trying to say. He stood, silently watching Harry go on, fighting the instinct to run.

“I think you're an amazing friend, I really do, but I don't usually do things like that with friends. And I always assumed you had some idea, because I haven't really been subtle about it, but you had no idea, did you?”

Louis was frozen, trying to think back over the time since he met Harry. Was he really saying what Louis thought he was saying? He took an instinctive step back as he tried to process this information.

“And now I've gone and messed it all up. Great.”

Louis shook his head lightly, although he wasn't sure what he was shaking his head at. After a long silence, Louis finally spoke, his voice quiet.

“I don't quite understand. Are you saying you never actually wanted to be my friend? That you only ever wanted more?”

“No! That's not what I mean- Fuck, I've really made a mess of this.” He slumped against the piano, exhaling loudly. “I always wanted to be your friend. Still do, really, even though it's maddening to be around you and not touch you. I _like_ you, Louis, I like all of you so of course I love being your friend. But even in the beginning, when I was trying to get to know you better, there was something else there. Even when I was trying to be your friend, I was falling for you, little by little. I couldn't help it. You're fascinating.”

Louis' eyes were dry from not blinking. So there it was. Harry was falling for him. Louis was fascinating. Louis was _fascinating_? Suddenly he felt like an animal in a zoo, like Harry had been enjoying the show this whole time and Louis had never realized. And he knew, he _knew_ Harry was a great guy and didn't see him that way, but it didn't change the way Louis felt. Like he had been on display, like Harry had been studying him. It made him feel uneasy.

“I think I should go.”

Harry slumped more and nodded sadly, as if he'd been expecting it. As Louis slipped into his shoes, however, Harry spoke again, still leaning against the piano. Louis didn't turn around or look up, just stood with his back to Harry as he looked down.

“Listen, I get it if you're not interested in me. I get it if you don't want me the way I want you. I mean, I'm not exactly cool and... Anyway, my point is, if you're not interested, that's fine. But if you think you could be, I need you to know you can trust me. I just... I hope you know that, Louis.”

Louis didn't look at Harry before he left, but he did spare him a nod, to make sure Harry knew he'd heard him and he understood. Because he did understand. He understood that Harry knew him remarkably well and that thought scared the piss out of him. They hadn't even known each other that long, but Harry always seemed to know how Louis worked. He never pushed too hard and he knew when to shut up, but he also knew when Louis _did_ need a push and realizing this now was overwhelming for Louis, especially with everything else that had been said.

He heard Pumpernickel meow as he closed the door behind him and he made his way out of the building. He walked home, hoping the fresh air would clear his head.

When he arrived at his flat an hour later, his mind was just as fuzzy as it had been before he left.

-

Hours later, at 2 in the morning, he found himself still sitting on his couch, thinking about everything that had been said. It wasn't that he wasn't interested in Harry. He'd just never even thought about it. He'd promised himself he wouldn't date until he was a little less of a mess and he never thought Harry would want him. Frankly, he was always surprised that Harry kept coming around, that he always seemed to genuinely enjoy Louis' company. He never understood it, considering that he didn't even enjoy his own company all that much.

And now he was supposed to process the fact that, not only did Harry enjoy his company, but he wanted more. What was it he'd said? It was maddening for him to be around Louis without touching him?

Suddenly, Louis stood and ran into the bathroom to look in the mirror. He stared at his reflection in the dim light and tried to see it. He tried to see what Harry swore was there, but he couldn't. He saw a weird nose and wrinkles by his eyes and slightly crooked teeth. He saw the stubborn pudge of his belly that never disappeared, no matter how many calories he cut out of his diet. He saw an arse that was way out of proportion to someone his size.

He stood there for half an hour, staring, watching as he morphed into some sort of inhuman shape before his eyes before realizing that studying himself in the mirror at 2:00 AM probably wasn't a good idea.

He went to bed instead and ran his hands over his body, wondering if Harry would like what he felt if he let him touch him. Even though _Louis_ didn't like what he felt, acknowledging that Harry might was new to him. Maybe he actually had become slightly less of a mess at some point over the past few weeks.

If he had, he knew he had more than just time to thank for that.

-

Louis didn't hear from Harry for four days and didn't make any effort to contact him himself. He was still trying to figure out how he felt about everything and he wasn't sure it would be worth the anxiety he knew he'd feel if he decided to let Harry in. He wasn't sure if he was ready for that.

On the fifth day, he received a long text from Harry after he'd eaten dinner.

_Hey, I want to give you all the time you need to think but I have a time slot to play at the coffee shop Thursday night and I can't really afford to not use it. I know you usually work Thursday nights but I'm hoping it's okay if I play?_

Louis frowned at the screen and immediately typed out his response, not needing to think about it.

_Of course it's okay. I always love hearing you play._

-

Two days later, it was Thursday and Louis felt a weight on his chest as he made his way to work. Harry wouldn't be there for a few hours, but he was anxious, not knowing what he'd say to him, if he even said anything. He tried not to think about it as he moved thoughtlessly through the first few hours of his shift, pouring coffee like a zombie and barely listening to anything anyone else said.

At 8:45, Louis looked up when he heard the door open and there he was, curls blown across his forehead by the wind, cheeks pink. Louis ignored the thumping of his heart as their eyes met, chalking it up to nerves, and smiled softly at him. Harry returned the smile and even offered a small wave before walking to the corner designated for the musicians and began setting up.

Usually he would come over and order a coffee and chat with Louis before he began playing, but tonight he didn't come over. So, Louis poured a cup of tea and walked it over to where Harry was bent over his guitar case, adjusting something.

“Hey,” Louis said softly.

Harry turned quickly, straightening up. His eyebrows lifted a bit in surprise, apparently not expecting Louis to even talk to him.

Louis set the cup of tea down on the table next to Harry's chair.

“You know, we have tea, too,” Louis said, smirking a bit.

Harry's gaze fell to the tea, then lifted back up to settle on Louis' eyes.

“Right, thanks, that's-” Harry stammered, then paused and cracked a smile at his poor orating. “Thank you, Louis.”

Louis nodded, pressing his lips together, and walked back behind the counter. He took the order from the next customer and when he went to pour their dark roast, he glanced up to where Harry was, finding him watching him. They both smiled and looked away quickly.

Once Harry started playing, this happened no fewer than a dozen more times. Louis would look over at Harry and Harry would be looking at Louis. Sometimes he would be singing while he was looking at Louis and, by the end of the night, Louis was sure his skin was on fire. He messed up more drinks than he had ever messed up before, just because he couldn't concentrate with Harry's deep voice filling the room.

When he locked the door behind the last customers, Harry had already packed up most of his stuff, just latching his guitar case and filling his shoulder bag with all of his things. Louis started clearing off tables, trying to ignore the obvious tension in the dim, silent room. As he pulled the bin out to tie up the bag, he felt Harry walk up behind him. He turned and Harry was standing there with his bag slung over his shoulder and his guitar case strapped to his back, holding out the empty cup Louis had brought the tea in earlier.

“Thanks again for that,” he said, the same soft smile playing at his lips.

Louis took the cup from him and set it on the counter next to him with the other dishes.

“Of course,” Louis said, hoping he sounded casual.

They stood there awkwardly for a moment before Harry rocked back on his feet.

“Well, I'm going to head out.”

He gestured toward the door and Louis nodded, leading the way since he'd have to lock it behind Harry anyway.

“It was good seeing you,” Louis said as he unlocked the door to let him out.

“Yeah, you too,” Harry said quietly, stepping toward the door. Before he opened it, however, he turned toward Louis and sucked in a breath, pausing.

They were close, close enough that Louis was sure Harry could hear his heartbeat, but Harry didn't close the distance. He stood there, studying Louis' face and searching his eyes before he closed his own eyes with a heavy sigh. When he opened them, he scrunched his eyebrows together and spoke.

“I want you to take your time, but I just need you to know I miss you.”

He bit his lip and Louis held his breath for just a moment before Harry opened the door and walked out.

As Louis locked the door and watched Harry walk away down the sidewalk, he realized that maybe he missed Harry, too.

-

Hours later, laying in his bed and staring at the ceiling, he knew it.

He most definitely missed Harry.

-

Two days later, he had a day off from work and he almost wished he didn't. He woke up early, before 6:00 and couldn't get back to sleep. There was a nervous energy running through him and he had no idea why. Or maybe he did have some idea why, but he didn't want to think about it.

Instead, he cleaned. He cleaned his apartment all morning, never stopping for more than a few seconds. By 10:00, he stood in the center of the room and looked around, searching for something else to clean. Unfortunately, he didn't have much stuff, so there was nothing left.

He made himself a turkey sandwich and ate it while standing in his kitchen. When he was finished, he stood there, fidgeting for a few minutes before making a decision. He grabbed his keys and wallet and headed out the door.

He decided to walk, hoping to use the time to decide what to say. It turned out 45 minutes wasn't long enough. When he arrived at the building, he still didn't really know how he'd turn his thoughts from the past several days into actual words and sentences. But there was no more time to figure it out. He'd have to improvise.

When he pulled open the door, he heard the little bell ding to announce his arrival. Harry wasn't at the counter flipping through a book this time. After a few seconds, though, he appeared from one of the aisles, a rag in his hand. When he saw Louis, he froze.

“Hey,” he said, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“I took the chance that you'd be here. I hope it's okay.”

Harry smiled carefully, still obviously unsure what Louis was doing there.

“Yeah, of course it is.” He leaned back against the counter a couple of metres away from Louis, waiting for him to explain himself.

Louis, however, didn't quite know where to start. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, digging his hands deep into the pockets of his hoodie.

“I've been thinking a lot. Thinking about things I've never really thought about before.”

Harry nodded patiently and Louis took a deep breath.

“I decided I'm like – you know how when you paint over one colour with another colour, it chips away over time, little by little? The top colour cracks, exposing more of the other colour?”

Harry looked confused but nodded anyway.

“It's like someone painted black over blue, the blue being me and the black being all the things that are fucked up about me. Does that make any sense?”

Harry paused, thinking for a moment before he nodded yet again.

“I think so. Keep going.”

“Okay, so black over blue. And there are cracks in the black where the blue shines through and those cracks get a little bigger all the time, chipping away to reveal more blue. And I think it's been chipping away faster since I met you. I think I'm more blue around you than I am any other time.”

Harry didn't say anything, but stared intensely at Louis, who shivered a bit under the gaze, taking a deep breath before going on.

“I just need you to promise me that whatever you see in me, whatever you like about me, isn't just the black. I need to know that you don't see me as some injured puppy dog who needs saving. I need to know that you like the blue parts, too.”

Louis cringed at himself, wishing his metaphor didn't sound so silly. In his head, it had made complete sense, but saying it out loud, he wouldn't be surprised if Harry laughed in his face. But Harry wasn't laughing. Harry was still staring with that intense look in his eyes, making Louis squirm.

“I don't think you need saving at all. I think you've already saved yourself and I think that's pretty awesome.” Harry's gaze softened as he tilted his head to the side a bit. “So yeah, I like the blue parts, Louis. I like all the parts.”

Louis took in a shaky breath, nodding to himself.

“Okay,” he said softly. “Okay, good. Because the thing is, I like you. I never actually thought about it because people like you don't fall for people like me.”

Harry scrunched up his face, but Louis barreled on before he could say anything.

“Yes, people like you, Harry. You're all warm and open and kind. Not to mention, you're a musician and really fit and all of that makes you pretty much unattainable. So I never thought about how I felt about you because it never mattered.”

Harry looked like he wanted to protest something, but he didn't know what exactly to say, so Louis sighed and kept going.

“Then you went and made yourself attainable which just kind of flipped my world upside down. And the thing is... I don't see what you see in me, but I believe that you see it. And that's pretty huge for me.”

Harry nodded, raising his eyebrows a bit.

“But you need to know that the idea of falling for someone so soon is really scary for me. I wasn't planning on it happening, so it's just... It's a lot. But I feel like, if I'm ever going to let someone in, it should be you because I trust you. And that's scary, too, the fact that I trust you, but I do. I know you'd never take anything from me because all you do is give and I just hope I can give you something, too.”

Harry bit his lip, concealing a smile, but his eyes were sparkling with it. But still, he waited silently. Louis looked at his surroundings and sighed to himself.

“God, this is all starting to feel so very Notting Hill.”

At that, Harry laughed and just the sound of Harry's laughter was enough to make Louis smile. Once Harry's laughter died out, he cleared his throat and spoke.

“Is there anything else you want to say?”

“No, I think I've done enough talking for a few weeks,” Louis responded, his smile slowly fading.

Harry pushed himself away from the counter and took the few steps to close the distance between them. When he was within arms' reach of Louis, he hesitated and peered down at him.

“Then can I finally kiss you?”

Louis' heart skipped a beat as he nodded, trying to breathe properly.

Instead of diving in, Harry took the last step toward him slowly and lifted a hand to Louis' forehead, his fingers gently pushing Louis' fringe away from his eyes. Their eyes stayed locked for a moment before Harry actually leaned in slowly and pressed his lips softly to Louis'.

As soon as they touched, Louis' stomach flipped at the feeling. It was something he hadn't felt in many years, the innocent excitement of a first kiss. He was almost disappointed when Harry pulled back after just a few seconds, looking down at him through shining eyes.

“You have no idea how badly I've wanted to do that these past few weeks.”

Louis smiled in a silent laugh and let himself be gathered up in a warm hug, Harry's long arms wrapping around his waist. He exhaled, releasing all of the nervous energy he'd had built up inside him and stood there, his arms wrapped around Harry, resting his head on the taller boy's shoulder.

As they stood there in silence, Louis could hear Harry's soft breathing and he smiled to himself, enjoying the moment. He knew it wouldn't always be this easy. He knew things would get complicated and that the events of the morning didn't mean he was all better now. But, for a moment, Louis let himself feel like a normal person.

After a couple of minutes, Louis had a realization and lifted his head.

“Don't you have any customers?” Louis pulled back and looked around, realizing it had been completely silent the entire time he'd been there. “How do you people even make money?”

Harry laughed, releasing Louis from his embrace.

“We're almost never busy before lunch. The rush comes in the afternoon.”

Louis remembered it was still early. It felt much later to him since he'd been on the go since six that morning. So, he guessed it made more sense that there were no customers yet.

He nodded and stood there, suddenly feeling awkward. He wasn't sure if he should stay or leave and let Harry work. Fortunately, Harry acted before Louis could make a decision, telling him to stay put for a minute while he ran to the office for a minute.

Louis took the time to peruse the little display set up near the register of regional books and little knickknacks for sale. His eyes drifted over the bookmarks and pens, then caught on a vaguely familiar dark blue book sitting on the counter, next to the cash register. There was a slip of paper stuck between the pages, marking a spot. Louis glanced back over his shoulder before leaning across the counter and picking it up. He flipped it open to the page that had been marked, reading the title of the poem: “Love's Philosophy” by Percy Bysshe Shelley.

What was more interesting than the poem itself was the piece of paper that had been marking the pages. It was covered in Harry's handwriting, little scribblings about love and beauty. Just as Louis was about to start reading the actual poem on the page, he heard Harry's footsteps approaching. When he came into view, Louis looked up, holding the book up.

“This yours?”

Louis could swear Harry started blushing, but he played it off, shrugging.

“It's mine in the way that I take it off the shelf every day and read it when I have nothing else to do. I've never actually paid for it, but it's still kind of mine.”

“Always this poem or the whole book?”

“No, different poems depending on my mood that day.”

Harry reached behind the counter, grabbing his messenger bag and pulling it over his shoulder. Then he moved around to the front of the counter, stepping up behind Louis and pulled the piece of paper out of the book, pocketing it.

“I use it for inspiration to write new songs.”

Louis would have asked what he was currently writing about, but he didn't want to intrude. He had written songs at one point in his life and he knew it was often a very private process. So, he dropped it and turned to face Harry.

“Why do you have your stuff?” he asked, gesturing at Harry's bag.

“I got the rest of the day off. As soon as my boss gets done with her paperwork, she'll come man the register and we're free.”

“You can't just leave work, Harry. It's not even noon.”

Harry smiled, shrugging.

“It's not a big deal, trust me.”

Just as Louis was about to protest more, maybe give a half-hearted lecture about responsibility, a middle-aged woman hustled up from behind a shelf.

“Alright, alright, I'm here. Oh!” She stopped when she saw Louis and smiled brightly. “This must be Louis!”

Louis flushed, surprised that she knew who he was and horrified at the thought of what else she might know about him. She looked at Harry and nodded toward Louis.

“He's a handsome one, isn't he?”

At that, Louis turned beet red, desperately wanting to flee, but he glued his feet to the floor and dug his hands back into the pockets of his hoodie. Harry just smiled, rolling his eyes at her.

“Yes, yes, he is. Louis, this is Deb. Deb, Louis. Now we'll be off.”

Harry pulled lightly on Louis' elbow to lead them out. As they approached the door, Deb called after them.

“Nice to meet you, Louis! Don't break my sweet Harry's heart!”

Louis' eyes widened comically at that comment, but he continued out the door, stepping onto the sidewalk with Harry ahead of him. As soon as they were outside, Harry turned to gauge Louis' reaction and let out a short laugh at the surprise written across Louis' face.

“Don't look so shocked, Louis. You're not the only one who has reason to be a little bit afraid here.”

As they walked to Harry's car, Louis realized he'd never thought about it like that. He always assumed that, if anyone were going to get hurt, it would be Louis. He never thought that maybe Harry was afraid of getting hurt, too. From their many conversations, he knew Harry had been single for over a year and that his last break up was mutual. He knew Harry was untouched by it, that he was just as optimistic and open as ever, but maybe that was why he was afraid. Maybe he realized that being so open invited not only the good, but the bad as well. Louis just hoped Harry trusted him the way he trusted Harry.

Harry drove them to his place, offering to make them lunch. As soon as Louis entered the flat, Pumpernickel was up on a table, meowing for his attention. He picked her up and let her flop against his chest, batting at his chin with her fluffy paw. When he rubbed her head, she immediately started purring loudly, nuzzling into his neck.

“Still a little worried you're planning to steal my cat, Louis,” Harry said, smirking as he patted her head on the way to the kitchen. There was a counter between the kitchen and the living room instead of a wall, so Louis sat on a stool there, watching Harry grab random ingredients from the refrigerator.

“What else are you worried about?”

Harry turned, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“What else are you afraid of?” Harry still looked confused, so Louis pressed on, Pumpernickel chewing softly on his finger. “With you and I. With this thing between us.”

Realization dawned on Harry and he thought about it as he closed the refrigerator and turned on the stove. Setting a pan down on the stovetop, he spoke.

“Relationships are always a little risky, aren't they? But the truth is I've never actually felt this way about someone before so just that is kind of scary. And then add in the fact that I'm terrified I'll do something stupid and scare you away.”

Louis frowned at him as he poured olive oil into the pan and continued on.

“But I think a little fear is healthy, isn't it? Mostly I'm just really fucking happy.”

Harry turned to Louis and flashed a wide grin which, like all of Harry's smiles, proved to be contagious, a smile creeping onto Louis' face.

Just then, a door opened to Louis' left and a bronze-skinned man walked out wearing just a low-slung pair of boxers, rubbing his eyes.

“What's all the racket?” he asked sleepily. As he brought his hands away from his face, he saw Louis and stopped suddenly. “Oh shit. Sorry. Didn't know we had company.”

“Sorry mate, didn't know you were home,” Harry said casually. He waved a spatula in Louis' direction. “This is Louis.”

In an instant, the sleepiness seemed to leave Zayn's eyes altogether as they lit up.

“Oh! _Louis!_ ” Zayn smirked at Harry, then smiled genuinely at Louis. “Nice to finally meet you.”

Zayn extended his hand and Louis shook it, sheepishly muttering that he was glad to meet Zayn as well.

“Well, let me get out of you guys' way. I just have to get dressed, then I'll be gone.”

As Zayn retreated back into his bedroom, Louis stared blankly at the wall in shock. After a moment, Harry's voice brought him back to reality.

“Louis? You okay?”

“You look at _that_ every day and you want _me_?” Louis asked incredulously, feeling almost embarrassed just to be in the same flat as these two gorgeous human beings. He'd always been a little awkward around Harry and his hair and his eyes and his smile, but he'd gotten used to it. Now he suddenly felt like he'd entered a world where he didn't belong.

Harry looked perplexed, glancing over at Zayn's door, then back to Louis. Then he seemed to realize what Louis was talking about and his face contorted in disgust.

“Oh god, Louis, gross. Zayn's like my brother. Don't even imply anything like that.”

He dropped the spatula next to the stove and walked around the counter to where Louis was seated, leaning his elbow on the counter as he peered down at Louis. He placed a light kiss to Louis' cheek, then spoke quietly, his fingers running down Louis' jawline.

“I wish you could see yourself.”

“I see myself plenty,” Louis responded with a shrug.

“I think we need to get you a new mirror. Yours seems to be broken.”

“It's not the mirror that's broken.”

Harry smiled sadly and leaned forward, pressing a light kiss to Louis' lips. When he pulled back, he ran a hand through Louis' hair.

“You're not broken, babe. You're just a little black and blue.”

Louis bit back a smile at his reference and nodded, taking a deep breath. Harry kissed him again and, as their lips touched, Zayn emerged from his bedroom.

“Alright, lads, I'll be-” He stopped suddenly, and as Louis pulled away from Harry to look at him, he saw that Zayn's eyes had widened. “Oh, are we kissing now?”

“Weren't you leaving?” Harry said pointedly, walking back to the stove where the oil was now bubbling.

“Fine, fine,” he huffed.

Before he left, he smiled and pointed at Louis, giving a concealed thumbs up while Harry was distracted by the stove. The guy was kind of intimidating, but he seemed nice and Louis was so relieved. He couldn't stand the thought of Harry's flatmate hating him, even if he wouldn't blame him for it.

-

They spent the rest of the day together. After lunch, they played video games for a while before Harry insisted they go get frozen yogurt. They walked for an hour, eating frozen yogurt and talking and laughing. That evening they watched a movie, curled up at opposite ends of Harry's couch. By the end of the movie, their legs were tangled together, Pumpernickel snoring quietly on top of them.

It was by far the most blue Louis had felt in years.

-

Over the next few weeks, Louis had to try really hard not to spend all of his free time with Harry. He didn't want to fall into old habits of letting someone else become his life, so he would often go home after work to his lonely flat and watch bad TV alone instead of watching it with Harry and talking over the boring parts.

Three weeks after they had become whatever it was that they were - they had never used the words 'boyfriend' or 'relationship', but they both knew that's what they were, what this was – Harry came over to Louis' flat after Louis got out of work and after Harry had played a small gig. It was late, almost midnight, but they hadn't seen each other in a few days so they both needed it.

After talking and watching a movie, they ended up lazily snogging in the dark, Louis smiling into the kiss as he tasted mint on Harry's tongue from the tea they'd had earlier. Harry pushed his fingers between Louis' and pulled away from Louis' lips.

“What if I stayed the night?” He asked, his voice a little uncertain.

Louis felt a swell of anxiety inside him. They hadn't done the sleepover thing and Louis had every reason to be nervous. He wasn't sure he was ready for sex yet and Harry had never pushed, never even mentioned it, but Louis was sure he'd been thinking about it. Even aside from sex, Louis was nervous about spending the night with him. What if he snored? What if he drooled? What about morning breath?

“You remember you can always tell me no, right?” Harry said quietly, kissing Louis' jaw.

The truth was, Louis actually wanted Harry to spend the night, even though it scared him. So, he nodded in the darkness, facing his fears.

“Yeah, stay the night.”

“You're sure?”

“I'm sure.”

They kissed again before Louis pulled away, standing to search for pyjamas in his dresser. He pulled out a pair, along with a t-shirt he usually slept in.

“Do you want something to sleep in? I doubt my clothes will fit you properly, but I'm sure I can find something.”

Harry peeled off his socks and stood, dropping them on the floor by Louis' bed.

“I'm fine in my boxers,” he stated, pausing. “Unless you'd rather I wore pyjamas.”

Louis shook his head, indicating that he was fine either way. As he shut the dresser drawer, Harry pulled his shirt over his head revealing his long, toned stomach. Louis tried not to stare, but it was the first time he'd properly seen Harry without a shirt on other than the quick glimpse he'd gotten when Harry had told him about his extra nipples and almost proudly showed them off. As he looked at him now, he was in awe. Next Harry pushed down his jeans and Louis was properly staring now. As Harry dropped his clothes next to his socks, Louis shook his head and looked away.

“I'm going to go brush my teeth and stuff,” he said, taking his pyjamas into the bathroom.

With the door closed behind, him leaned against the counter, taking a deep breath. He changed his clothes while facing away from the mirror, not wanting to see his own body so soon after having seen Harry's. After brushing his teeth and washing his face, he emerged to find Harry sitting at the foot of Louis' bed.

“Hey,” he whispered, smiling warmly as Louis approached.

He stood and wrapped Louis into a hug.

“You're still sure you want me to stay?” He asked quietly into Louis' ear.

Louis just nodded into Harry's shoulder, not wanting him to hear the nervousness in his voice. They stood there for a moment, with Harry's fingers running up and down Louis' clothed back slowly. Louis touched Harry's skin as little as possible, feeling overwhelmed by it.

“Do you have an extra toothbrush?”

Louis directed him to the drawer where he could find one and Harry disappeared into the bathroom for a couple of minutes. Louis fussed with his comforter, thankful that he'd just washed his sheets the day before. When Harry emerged, Louis had already crawled into bed, lifting the blanket on the other side for him.

Harry climbed into the bed and covered himself, sighing as he got situated. He turned on his side, facing Louis, who was on his back, his arms draped over his own waist under the covers. Louis turned his head to look at Harry, lifting the corner of his mouth just a bit.

Instead of speaking, Harry kissed him softly, slowly. It was a patient kiss and soon Louis was relaxing into it. When Harry parted his own lips, sucking on Louis' bottom lip lightly, he relaxed more, letting Harry's tongue sneak into his mouth. Their tongues met, wet and sweet, and Louis loved the feeling. It wasn't rushed or pushy. It was slow and deliberate and wonderful.

After snogging each other breathless, they pulled away and Harry shifted, turning into him more. Louis felt Harry's hand drop to his waist, his fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. He pressed his own hands against his stomach, holding the material down, feeling his face flush.

Harry leaned in and kissed him again, lightly this time, letting his lips linger against Louis'.

“You're beautiful,” he whispered into Louis' lips, pressing another kiss into them. “You're beautiful.”

He repeated it again and again, pressing their lips together between his words. He dragged his lips down Louis' neck, whispering the words into Louis' skin along the way. He kissed down to Louis' collarbone, where the neckline of Louis' shirt cut him off before lifting his head up and kissing his lips once more.

He looked into Louis' eyes as he placed his hand over Louis' and Louis knew he could push him away. He knew he could say no, but he let Harry move his hands aside. They both knew this was one of those times where Louis needed a little nudge forward.

Harry kissed him again as he slid his hand under Louis' shirt, pushing it up to expose Louis' skin. He only pulled away from his lips for a moment as he peeled the shirt over Louis' head before he was back, his lips pressed into Louis'.

Then he moved down again, placing kisses down Louis' neck to his chest. Pushing himself up onto his knees, he crawled down Louis' body, lips touching every inch of exposed skin across his chest.

“Beautiful here,” he whispered, placing a kiss in the middle of his chest. “And here,” as he moved lower. “And here.” Another kiss. “And beautiful here,” he said as he reached Louis' stomach.

Louis felt his hands trembling as Harry kissed across his middle, whispering “beautiful” again and again. Harry's hand found Louis' trembling one and he laced their fingers together in a comforting grip. Before long, Harry kissed his way back up, finding his lips again, his chest resting against Louis'. Louis felt Harry's fingers roam along his sides, but the kiss distracted him and he once again felt himself relax, at least enough to seek out Harry's tongue with his own.

They snogged for a while and Louis could feel Harry's heartbeat against his chest, his skin warm and welcoming. He forced himself to focus on Harry's lips; otherwise, he'd go crazy with all the thoughts and feelings pressing in on him. When Harry pulled away, his lips were swollen pink and his cheeks were flushed and Louis had to bite back a groan at the sight.

“What are you feeling?” He asked, his fingers tracing patterns into Louis' hip.

“Horny and terrified,” Louis responded honestly, drunk on the lack of oxygen.

Harry smiled a little and bumped his nose into Louis'.

“Which one of those is winning?”

Louis bit his lip, thinking. After a moment, he sighed, once again answering honestly.

“I don't know.”

Harry nodded and kissed him once again before rolling off of Louis, back to his side of the bed, keeping his arm draped across Louis' waist.

“Then let's get some sleep, yeah? Pick up where we left off another time?”

Harry's eyelids drooped a bit over his shining eyes and Louis smiled. He still didn't understand how he had gotten so lucky that a guy like this wanted him. A guy who was beautiful and funny and kinder than anyone else he'd met. A guy who was patient and, somehow, knew Louis better than anyone else did.

He fought the urge to pick up his discarded shirt from the ground. Instead he curled up in Harry's arms as they fell asleep under the covers.

And he actually felt safe there.

-

The following week, Louis called Liam on Tuesday to catch up. He had avoided telling him about Harry until now and he finally found the nerve to do so. After they talked about the latest football match and after Liam had told him about his new side job painting houses, the conversation reached a lull and Louis took the opportunity.

“Hey, so, there's something I wanted to let you know.”

“Okay,” Liam replied hesitantly.

“Yeah, it's just that... Well, I'm seeing someone. Have been for a few weeks now.”

Liam hesitated and Louis kept talking to avoid the silence and, hopefully, to put Liam's mind at ease.

“His name's Harry and he's a couple years younger than me. He plays at the coffee shop sometimes. That's how we met, actually. Anyway, he plays guitar and sings and writes songs. And he works in a bookstore, too.”

Louis was aware he was babbling nervously, but he couldn't help it, feeling the judgment seeping through the phone from Liam's end. When he and Liam first saw each other after Louis' split from Max, Liam had warned him not to date for a good, long while. Although it had been months since that conversation, Louis suspected he had been thinking more in terms of years.

“He's just-” Louis sighed. “He's just a really good guy and he wants to meet you and Niall and I want you guys to meet him.”

Finally, Louis quieted himself, waiting for Liam's reply, which came soon after.

“Well, the fact that he wants to meet us is a good sign, I guess.”

Louis smiled a bit at that.

“Liam, I know I've fucked up a lot, but I'm not being stupid here.”

“Good. You know I just want the best for you, right?”

Louis rolled his eyes to himself, smiling.

“Yes, _mum_ , I know,” he teased. “So maybe you guys could come 'round my place for dinner Friday?”

“Uh,” Liam hesitated. “You're cooking?”

“ _No_ ,” he huffed. “That's Harry's job. He's properly good at it.”

“Oh, okay. Then I accept the invitation.”

“Good. Let Niall know, yeah? I've got to get ready for work.”

Liam agreed before they hung up and Louis tried not to be nervous about the set up. He texted Harry, telling him that the dinner was a go. Harry responded with an excited _yaaayyyy!_ Moments later, Louis received another text from Harry.

_Zayn says he's hurt that he wasn't invited but he wants you to know he forgives you and he'll see you Friday. :/ Sorry babe._

Louis laughed out loud, quickly texting back.

_Why would he even want to come?_

The response came a minute later.

_He says he knows your friends are fit._

_How would he know? You've never even met them..._

Louis rolled his eyes as he finished typing and walked into the bathroom to style his hair. His phone buzzed after a minute, a text from a new number popping up.

_I have a sixth sense about these things, Louis. Don't question me. Xx -z_

To be honest, he was kind of happy Zayn would be there. If there was any awkward silence, Zayn was sure to fill it.

-

The next night, Louis let Harry suck him off. As he came, he gripped Harry's hand with his own trembling one.

The desire had edged out the fear.

-

Friday night, Louis sat on the kitchen counter and watched Harry cook, handing him utensils when directed. Zayn, who had arrived with Harry, was watching something on the telly, drinking a glass of wine. The table was set and Louis had cleaned his apartment as well as he possibly could.

He'd even decorated. He had cut the photo of the old couple sitting on a bench out of the art book Harry had given him and framed it, hanging it above the couch. When they'd arrived earlier, Harry's eyes found the photo immediately and he grinned at it wordlessly before setting down the bags of food and wine he'd brought, kissing Louis hello.

An hour later, the food was prepared and staying warm in the oven and Louis was pacing nervously, fidgeting with the place settings and checking the oven restlessly.

“What's he so nervous about? They're _his_ friends,” Zayn pointed out, looking up at Louis quizzically.

“He's afraid they're going to hate me,” Harry responded, only half-joking.

Before Louis could jump into the conversation, there was a knock at the door and he swallowed hard, moving to get it.

“Hey mate!” Niall said, smiling as he hugged Louis quickly before moving inside.

Liam moved in to hug him next, offering a quieter greeting.

By the time they broke the hug and moved into the flat, Niall was already shaking Harry's hand and then introducing himself to Zayn. Before Louis and Liam had even crossed the room, Niall was pouring himself a glass of wine.

“So you met Niall,” Louis said, rolling his eyes. “And this is Liam.”

Liam smiled tightly and offered his hand to Harry. Harry smiled his usual bright smile and introduced himself warmly, shaking his hand.

“And this is Harry's flatmate, Zayn,” Louis said, waving toward Zayn.

Liam and Zayn shook hands before Louis pointed Liam toward the wine. He just barely heard Zayn's comment to Harry.

“Told you they were fit.”

Louis smiled when he heard Harry smack Zayn and tell him to shut up.

-

After half an hour, everyone was just about finished eating and Louis discovered that he had nothing to worry about. Harry was, of course, perfect and charming. Liam had relaxed a few minutes into dinner and not just because of the wine. Harry was just an easy guy to like.

They told stories of school, of getting into trouble and the general mayhem that followed wherever they went. Harry spoke every once in a while, but mostly listened, his eyes shining with interest. When he caught Louis watching him from across the table, he winked before turning back to listen to Niall tell a story about the three of them entering into a hula hoop marathon just so Niall could spend time with this girl he had a thing for. Unfortunately Niall dropped his hula hoop within seconds and didn't get to say a word to the girl. Ironically, Louis came in third place. He got a trophy and everything.

After talking for a while, Louis got up to clear some of the dishes and Harry moved to help, but Liam moved faster, telling him he'd do it as he grabbed the plate from his hand. In the kitchen, Liam cornered Louis and spoke quietly.

“He seems like a really nice guy.”

Louis smiled, grateful for the comment, but Liam went on.

“You're different than you were the last time I saw you and not the way I expected. I think he's changing you, but not into the person _he_ wants you to be. I think he's changing you back into _you_.”

Louis absorbed this, thinking about it. It made sense, he guessed. He knew he had changed since he'd met Harry and it definitely scared him to know that Harry had played a big part in that change, but Liam's words made him think that maybe it was okay that Harry was, at least in part, responsible for that.

“One night's not enough for me to make any final decisions about the guy, but if he turns out to be as good of a guy as he seems and if he's as good _for you_ as he seems to be, well-” He paused, squinting down at Louis. “Well, I'll be very grateful to him.”

Louis smiled shyly, his cheeks suddenly feeling very warm. Liam clapped Louis on the back as he left the kitchen, going back out to the living room. Louis felt completely overwhelmed, suddenly realizing that he was surrounded by all the people who cared most about him. He felt it pressing in on him from all sides and it completely took his breath away. Instead of going back out right away, he leaned against the counter, taking deep breaths to shake the feeling.

“Hey,” Harry said softly as he entered the kitchen, approaching him. “Everything alright?”

Louis looked up and saw the concern in Harry's eyes and yes, there it was. Caring. Louis looked away, focusing on his breathing again. Harry scrunched his eyebrows and took a step forward.

“Are you freaking out?”

Louis shook his head before realizing that maybe this constituted freaking out in Harry's mind and changed it to a shrug.

“Can I do anything?”

“Tell me I'm awful or something.”

Harry looked at Louis like he was insane and took one more step toward him, lifting his hand to rub Louis' arm.

“Yeah, I'm not going to do that. Sorry.”

Louis shrugged. It was worth a shot.

Instead, they stood in silence for a minute until Louis didn't feel like he was suffocating. Finally, he pushed away from the counter and wrapped his arms around Harry's waist, sighing.

“Sorry. Just overwhelmed.”

“It's okay, babe.” He kissed the top of Louis' head, his arms around Louis' shoulders. “You're allowed to be.”

Louis enjoyed the hug for a moment before pulling out of it, not wanting to be rude to his friends in the other room. Luckily, when they emerged from the kitchen, they found Liam, Niall, and Zayn involved in a boisterous conversation about their favourite superheroes. Louis watched them interact, amazed by how easily the night had gone so far.

When Liam and Niall left at the end of the night, they each had Zayn's and Harry's phone numbers programmed into their phones and they had all made promises to get together again soon. Soon after, Zayn left and Louis immediately flopped down on the bed, sighing heavily.

“Do you think it went okay?” Harry asked, crawling on top of Louis, his knees on either side of Louis' hips.

“Yeah, it went perfectly,” Louis said, shrugging.

“Shouldn't you be happy about that?”

Louis lifted his hands to play distractedly with the hem of Harry's shirt. He felt guilty for not jumping up and down with glee at how well the night went, but he was still feeling overwhelmed.

“It's just a lot. You, them... you and them together. You're just all... You all...” He trailed off, not knowing how to explain it.

“We all think you're wonderful?”

Louis' eyes flicked up to Harry's. He nodded, looking back down at his fingers wrapped in the bottom of Harry's shirt.

“Lou,” Harry said, exhaling. “I'm afraid that's just one of those things you'll have to get used to.”

“I know,” Louis responded, untangling his fingers and wrapping his arms around Harry, pulling him down on top of him.

They lay silently for a few minutes before Louis spoke quietly.

“Do you know I think you're wonderful, too? Have I mentioned that recently?”

Harry smiled into his neck, giving him a quick kiss there.

“Not nearly recently enough,” Harry said snobbishly. “Been ages. Hours, even.”

Louis laughed at his antics, poking him in the ribs.

“Well, you're wonderful. I think you even won over Liam. I didn't think it was possible.”

“I'm relieved. He's a little scary. Or he was at the beginning of the night anyway.”

“Yeah,” Louis sighed, trying not to think back to when he had pushed Liam away, to the pain in Liam's eyes when Louis turned him away again and again.

He shook his head of the thoughts and rolled Harry off him, giving him a quick peck before going to clean up the rest of the dishes.

Harry stayed to help clean up, then he left as well after making sure Louis didn't need anything else. After he'd left, Louis looked around the now empty flat, finally smiling at how well the night went and thinking about what Liam had said.

-

Several days later, Louis was staying the night at Harry's. After snogging on the couch for a while, they moved to Harry's bed, Harry climbing over Louis. It wasn't long before he moved his hips down to meet Louis', grinding them together. They were both already hard and as Harry moved, Louis felt himself get even harder, his pants feeling much tighter than they actually were. He bit back a moan as Harry's hips met his again.

“Okay?” He whispered between kisses.

“Yeah, okay,” Louis breathed, nodding.

“Can I touch you?”

Louis whimpered, nodding again. Even though Harry had gone down on him the week before, he still felt incredibly anxious about Harry touching him. He knew he had to push through that, though. He wanted it and he would accept the anxiety if it meant feeling Harry's hand on him.

After throwing Louis a questioning glance, Harry pulled off Louis' shirt, followed by his trousers. He shimmied out of his own clothes quickly; he knew Louis would be uncomfortable being the only one in just his underwear and Louis was very grateful for those little things that Harry just knew.

Once they were both down to their pants, Harry went back to kissing Louis, then pushed his hand carefully into Louis' boxer briefs, gripping him firmly. Louis bit back a moan, his eyes rolling back in his head as Harry started moving his hand up and down.

“Good?”

“Yeah, really good.”

Harry pumped slowly, making Louis' head swim. He could feel Harry's erection against his leg and he reached up to palm it through Harry's boxers.

“Fuck,” Harry murmured in response, pulling his lips away from Louis' and dropping his forehead onto Louis' shoulder. His hand didn't stop moving and soon they were both writhing under the other's touch.

“Lou, can I- can we-” he stammered before hesitating.

Louis turned his head to whisper hoarsely into Harry's ear.

“Yeah, we can.”

Harry whipped his head up to look at Louis, eyebrows raised in a question.

“I want to,” Louis said and if his skin wasn't already on fire, he would have blushed furiously.

Harry looked nervous, like he was expecting Louis to admit he was just kidding.

“You have to say it or I can't,” he said lowly, eyes locked on Louis'.

Louis removed his hands from Harry's boxers to pull him down, kissing him deeply. Harry took his hand off of Louis as well, using it to steady himself above him. When they broke the kiss, Louis buried his face in Harry's neck.

“I want you to fuck me,” he whispered before quickly adding: “If you want to, that is.”

Harry hesitated for a moment, pulling back to study Louis' face. Louis was sure he looked terrified because he was. He was absolutely terrified, but he didn't think that would ever change, even if he waited another year before doing it. The idea of waiting, though, wasn't appealing to Louis either. So Louis nodded again to reassure Harry that, even though he was terrified, he wanted this. Harry mirrored his nod, leaning down to kiss him again before he pushed himself off the bed, walking to the corner of the room where his messenger bag lay. He fished around in the pocket and produced a a small unopened box of condoms.

Louis covered his midsection with his arms and watched Harry walk back to the bed, pulling a bottle of lube out of his dresser on the way. When Harry dropped back down onto the bed and opened the bottle of lube, Louis covered his face with one of his hands, knowing what was coming. This would be the worst of it, he told himself. Once this part was over, the rest wouldn't be so bad.

Harry saw that Louis had covered his face and pulled himself up, once again hovering over him.

“If you want to change your mind at any point, you can do that, okay?” Harry nudged at Louis' hand softly with his nose. “Now tell me again if you're sure about this.”

Louis peeked through his fingers before lowering his hand.

“I'm sure, but...” Louis stopped, embarrassed.

“But what?”

“Just... Can you not look? Can you kiss me while you do it?” Louis emphasized his point by gesturing his head toward Harry's fingers.

Harry understood and responded softly.

“Of course, babe. Of course I can do that.”

Louis breathed a sigh of relief before taking another steadying breath as Harry poured the clear liquid onto his right hand, covering his fingers.

“Spread your legs, yeah?”

Harry moved between Louis' legs as he spread them, desperately wanting to cover his face again. Before he could, though, Harry's lips were on his, distracting him. As they kissed, Louis felt a slicked up finger touch him and he jolted a bit, causing Harry to pause. After a moment, he started moving his fingertip around Louis' entrance and the sensation was so strong Louis almost leapt off the bed. But he anchored himself to Harry's lips, focusing on that as the fingertip pushed inside of him.

Harry moved slowly, taking plenty of time before adding a second finger, then finally a third. Louis whimpered as Harry stretched him, both uncomfortable and desperate for more. Harry stalled his fingers deep inside Louis and whispered into the kiss.

“Still okay?”

“Yeah, I'm ready,” he whispered back.

And he was, he thought. He was ready for this, even if his shaking hands said otherwise.

Harry nodded, pushing his fingers in and out a few more times before withdrawing them completely. He pulled away from the kiss to open the box of condoms and put one on. After he coated himself with lube, he moved back in to kiss Louis again as he lined himself up. Before pushing in, he dropped his head onto Louis' shoulder.

Louis stared at the ceiling, listening to the sound of Harry's breathing as he guided himself in. It had been a long time since anyone had been inside Louis and he felt every centimetre of it. He squeezed his eyes shut as Harry slowly pushed in until he was buried, then stopped. His breathing had gone ragged against Louis' shoulder and he stayed still for a minute before lifting his head off Louis' shoulder.

“Fuck, Louis,” Harry said shakily, placing a kiss to Louis' lips. “I'm afraid this is going to be quick.”

Leave it to Harry to make him crack a smile in a moment like this, Louis thought. But that's what he did. Louis smiled as Harry leaned in to kiss him again and started pulling out only to push back in again.

His thrusts were slow at first and Louis was glad for it, but soon his body became used to the intrusion and he wanted more.

“You can go faster,” he said softly and Harry bit his lip, looking down at Louis as he quickened his pace.

Louis arched into Harry, choking back a moan as Harry changed the angle and hit the right spot. His fingers pressed into the skin of Harry's back, holding on for dear life. Then the breath was knocked out of him when he felt Harry's hand wrap around his cock, which was growing hard again after the earlier discomfort. A few tugs and a few thrusts later and he was fully hard again, panting under Harry.

Harry was getting close, Louis knew, his eyes falling shut for a moment to sober himself before looking back down at him. He made an attempt to hit Louis' prostate on each thrust and soon, Louis was shaking as he neared the edge.

“Close,” he whispered, his eyes squeezed shut.

A few more moments and he was coming, Harry stroking him through the orgasm. Before Louis had even finished, Harry joined him over the edge, coming inside him.

Harry stilled, the aftershocks of their orgasms still coursing through them. They were both shaking and out of breath as Harry pulled out and dropped next to Louis. Louis pulled the sheet over him to cover himself, then fell limp into the bed. They lay in silence for a while before Harry finally spoke.

“That was insane,” he said breathlessly.

“Good insane?” Louis asked.

“Amazing insane,” Harry said, in awe. “Like, the best ever insane.”

Louis laughed lightly at that, using all the energy in him to push himself up onto his side. He rested his head in the crook of Harry's shoulder, his eyelids feeling like lead and falling shut.

“How do you feel about it?” Harry asked softly, his arm wrapping around Louis, fingers resting on his arm.

Louis tried to identify an emotion he was feeling but right now he was really just feeling calm and happily numb.

“Good. I think I feel good about it. Mostly I feel exhausted.”

Harry turned to face Louis and kissed his forehead, resting his lips against Louis' hair as he spoke slowly.

“Good, then hopefully you'll be too tired to run away when I tell you how amazing you look when I'm inside you and how hot you look when you come and how good you feel.”

Louis buried his face in Harry's shoulder, making a strangled noise of discomfort. Harry gave him a moment before pulling away so he could look into his face, his hand resting on Louis' neck.

“And how beautiful you look right now.”

Louis looked into his eyes, seeing the adoration there, but still wondering why. Why did Harry pick him, how did he see these things in him. None of it made any sense, yet here they were.

“I don't know how this happened,” Louis said thoughtfully, looking past Harry. “How I managed to stumble upon the most amazing guy in London and how he decided that I was worth it.”

Harry smiled softly and kissed Louis' cheek.

“I wonder the same thing. How I managed to stumble upon the most amazing guy in London and how he decided _I_ was worth it.”

As they fell asleep that night, Louis shut out everything else – all of his thoughts and worries – and focused only on the even breathing of his boyfriend and his warm skin and, for a moment, he let himself have it without questioning anything.

-

The next morning, Louis was awoken by the muffled sound of synthesizers floating into Harry's bedroom through the cracks in the door. He was alone and assumed Harry was the cause of the noise, knowing Zayn wasn't home. As he oriented himself to consciousness, he recognized the music and smiled disbelievingly. Looking at the clock, he saw that it was 9:00.

He quickly pulled on his clothes and left the room to find Harry dancing happily as he cooked, eggs and milk and butter and bacon all spread across the counter. Louis leaned against the wall, watching Harry shake his hips and pump his arms in the air. When the song came to an end, he reached over to his ipod and hit the back button to replay it. Louis smiled, laughing silently. When Harry spun around to the music, he spotted him and smiled brightly.

“Louis!”

“Dancing to Rihanna? At nine in the morning?”

“Of course! Dance with me!”

Harry approached him, bouncing up and down and Louis didn't have the heart to outright refuse so he lifted his hands and moved his shoulders back and forth lamely before blushing, shaking his head. Harry pulled him into a hug, smiling, swaying them back and forth.

“I love you,” he said into Louis' shoulder and he said it like he'd said it a million times before, like it was common knowledge.

Louis almost didn't even realize he'd said it, but after a moment, he snapped his head up, peering up at Harry, bewildered.

“Did you really just break out the L-word while dancing to Rihanna in the kitchen?”

“Why not?” Harry shrugged happily. “I mean, listen to the lyrics. 'It's the way I'm feeling, I just can't deny'. It's quite fitting, don't you think?”

Louis rolled his eyes and leaned in for a quick peck before resting his head on Harry's shoulder, sighing happily.

“Just do me a favour, okay?” Harry asked.

“What's that?” Louis asked without moving.

“Don't say it to me until you can say you love yourself first,” Harry paused, running his fingers across Louis' back. “At least more than you hate yourself.”

Louis waited a moment before lifting his head up to look at Harry.

“You'll be waiting a long time,” Louis said, wincing, not wanting to disappoint Harry with his lack of progress.

But Harry just shrugged casually, lifting the corner of his mouth.

“I'm not going anywhere.”

As they ate breakfast, Louis wondered if he would ever get to tell the beautiful curly haired boy next to him those words, the words he felt more and more each day. He had made a lot of progress over the last few months, but Harry's request was a big one. It seemed impossible, but he would try. He would try for Harry and he would try for himself, even if it took years.

-

It didn't take as long as Louis expected, though. Several months later, he was uttering the words into Harry's ear, unloading the weight he'd been carrying around with him for months. He had never seen Harry smile so brightly, bright enough to make his eyes water. In fact, Louis was pretty sure he'd never smiled so brightly himself.

The black was still there, of course, and it always would be; little flecks of it covering the blue, stubbornly sticking to him, but he was okay with it. No one was perfect after all.

Everyone was a little black and blue.

 


End file.
